


Dreamlover

by thelastolympian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Pre-Hogwarts, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastolympian/pseuds/thelastolympian
Summary: A summer before the Hogwarts letter arrives, Harry Potter is taken by his Aunt Petunia to a children’s day celebration in Little Whinging. There he meets Hermione Granger, a fascinating bushy-haired girl that comes to be his first friend and his first love. Sharing experiences throughout the summer, Harry learns that life can be good - if only one remembers to share a chocolate ice-cream.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 41
Kudos: 146





	1. "...i got sunshine on a cloudy day."

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! My pen-name is the last olympian here on AO3, but i attend for languageoflover on Wattpad. I'm also known as Matteo Caputto on the Harmony & Co. (+18) Facebook Group and in H.M.S. Harmony Discord Group. This is my first story and it was inspired by the movie "My Girl", starring Macauly Culkin & Anna Clumsky. This was planned as a short-fic, but i decided to post it as a one-shot instead. Maybe, if my muse helps me, there will be a couple of chapters telling the story of what happened after the events of this one. English is not my first language, so i would like to thank the help of the AMAZING NifflersNogtailsNargles for being the best beta i could ask for and to Coffee Reveries, my partner in crime that helped me while i had some struggles. Without further ado, let's get into the chapter. Hope you like it!

Petunia Dursley wasn’t a happy woman. No, no. She was completely livid. On this particular Sunday morning, she was pressing her lips in a thin line and staring the park ahead of her. Trees, grass, flowers, and even a playground waited in the children’s day celebration in Little Whining. But why would she get so upset about children having fun? The answer was quite simple: her nephew, Harry James Potter, was in the backseat of her car. Dudley Dursley, her beloved son, had thrown a fit to participate in this celebration and of course, she couldn’t deny a special moment like that to her little pudding. Her husband was on a business trip and was trying to make a deal with a company to expand Grunnings across the country, and Petunia was hoping that they could upgrade the garden budget. Oh, how she would love to have a fountain in the middle of her garden... she could even see the jealousy of that weirdo Figgs, who lived only for her terrible cats and didn’t have any sense of architecture, fashion or finesse.

Mrs. Figgs was one of the reasons Petunia was so livid. Vernon’s sister wasn’t able to come over and stay with her nephew, nor she could send him. Figgs was her last chance to get rid of the boy for at least one evening, but the old hag couldn’t even help her with this. She said she would be busy in London to solve some issues with a dear friend of hers and even said that she should bring her nephew to the children’s day celebration. What a disgrace.

And that disgrace was happening right now, sitting in her backseat. She had to buy clothes for the freak, otherwise, it would bring too much attention if he went around with clothes that oversized. She needed to avoid questions.

“Here we are, my pudding! You’re going to have so much fun...” her son was tapping on the glass, almost jumping in excitement. “And you, boy, don’t even try to run away. But don’t stay close or talk to me or my Dudley while there are people around. We wouldn’t want everyone to think that you are related to us. Take this money and don’t come asking for more. You’re going to bankrupt us... freak.”

She handed two pounds to her nephew and unlocked the doors.

“Leave, careful so no one can see you. Each hour come back to the car to see if we’re still here. Don’t make me go searching for you. It’s a warning. Now get out of my sight!”

Harry never has been so happy in his poor life. He had new clothes - even if just for a day - and had two pounds! The playground was free, so he would be careful to not spend his money. He could eat an apple at home, yes! So he carefully slipped out of his aunt Petunia's car and walked in the largest steps he could for the park. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even see the girl walking in the opposite direction, bumping into him.

“Ouch!”

Oh, no. The first time he was free and he already was in the middle of a problem. Way to go, Harry!

“My glasses...” he muttered under his breath. And now he couldn’t see anything. Great!

“Here!” A girly voice said and offered something that could only be his glasses. He took it and suddenly could see who was his savior.

A bushy-haired girl was smiling upon him and offering her hand. He gladly accepted and stood up, while cleaning his brand new jeans.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry for running into you, I don’t know why I was so distracted. I’m really sorry.” He said looking at his feet.

“Nonsense! And you’re welcome. You looked very lost without your glasses... what’s your name? I’m Hermione Granger.”

He looked up and she was smiling again, offering her hand at him. He was startled. No one has ever been this nice to him. Ever. Aunt Petunia always said to never talk to strangers, but Harry was starting to think that this was a rule so he couldn’t say anything and bring attention to the fact that she was his aunt.

“I’m Harry... Harry Potter,” he said, shaking her hand. It was warm, like a sunny day.

“Hi, Harry! Do you want to play? My parents are watching over there, we wouldn’t be unsupervised if it worries your parents.” She said, her eyes twinkling with the sunlight. Harry thought she was very cute.

“You... you want to play with me?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I? You were the first boy that didn’t call me by many names.” Harry couldn’t understand why anyone would call any names with this girl, but decided to accept her offer. It was truly the best day of his life.

“Okay.” Only then he realized they were still holding hands, and his face turned red. “Err... where you want to go first?”

Hermione was blushing as well, but held his hand and guided him through the crowd. “Over here!”

Two hours later, Harry didn’t even remember he had an aunt called Petunia. He and Hermione were able to play in past the half of the playground, with Harry successfully avoiding Dudley and his aunt. Her parents were sitting in a spot under a tree and waved constantly to them, checking if they were alright.

“Let’s have some ice cream? My parents are dentists and don’t let me eat candy, but today is an exception.” Her smile was so bright that Harry couldn’t even stand a chance at saying anything but ‘yes’.

The problem was: he only had two pounds. And he wasn’t going to spend it but... it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Pay for her ice cream too. Might be all he had, but she was worth it. They approached the old lady in the ice cream parlor.

“Good evening ma'am! How much it costs the ice cream?” Harry asked in the most polite tone he could. The old lady smiled warmly at him, the way he imagined a grandmother would.

“Good morning sir! Which flavor do you want?”

“Ummm... Hermione, can you choose?”

“Choose for you?” When he nodded, she took a look at the folder with the flavors and said. “Do you like chocolate with strawberries, Harry?”

Harry never tasted chocolate, but if Hermione chose this, it should be really nice. “Yes.”

The old lady smiled brightly and put two matching sundae cones to them, covered in sprinkles.

“There it goes. Have fun, kids!”

“Thank you, ma'am! But how much it costs?” Harry asked, handing the ice cream to Hermione and accepting the other one.

“Oh sweetie, it’s on the house. You two remind me when I first met my great husband, Saul, in Florida. We were friends as kids, you know? And fifty years after, he still was my best friend... god bless him. Anyway, have fun!” The lady said with a beaming smile.

“Why thank you, ma'am!” Hermione answered with a smile. “Have a great day!”

Harry made his boldest move to date – besides the few times he’d managed to stand up to Dudley and Uncle Vernon. He didn’t know exactly why he had such a need to do it, but it just felt right. She looked at their hands together and then at his face, smiling broadly. “Let’s go”.

They headed to sit under a tree, with a view from the entire park. The Ferris wheel lit up as the sun was going down, sparkling with red, blue, and yellow lights. In this evening alone, Harry learned that Hermione was almost a year older than him, only-child and that she was really smart. She currently was on Little Whining on a summer vacation, in her grandmother’s house, that was not that far away from his aunt’s house. Her favorite color was baby blue and her true love was her books. She was completely obsessed with them.

“So you’re telling me you never read Narnia?” Hermione said, mouth comically wide with shock, an expression made funnier still by the chocolate ice cream stuck in her teeth.

“Sorry, Mione.” They just moved to a nickname basis. “I don’t have a lot of books in my house and my relatives aren’t very keen on reading. Besides my aunt, but she only reads fashion and gossip magazines.” Harry said in an apologetic tone, walking on eggs and trying to don’t tell anything that would make her pity him. He just wanted to be a normal boy for once.

“Oh, Harry! You have to read it. I’m sure you’ll love it. I’m gonna ask dad to buy one extra copy so I can give it to you on your birthday. It’s next week, right?” The words were spilling from her mouth and her hands were in the air. She loved gesticulating, said that it gave more emphasis to what she was trying to say. This time, she was completely happy and excited about sharing a whole new world with a new friend. Her first friend.

“Yes, yes it is,” Harry said with a small smile. How was he going to say that this probably was the last time they were going to see each other? His aunt would never let him bring a gift from home, even more, go to someone else’s house. He spent the day doing house chores or locked in the cupboard under the stairs. This summer, however, aunt Petunia seemed more annoyed with him than ever. So she decided that he was allowed to go to the park - already knowing that no one would ever play with him while her son and his friends were there. She thought it was poetic justice, her nephew seeing his cousin have fun while she couldn’t. Still, it didn’t make up for all the suffering that she went through with that freak of a sister. It didn’t help that the boy was a carbon copy of that disgusting husband of hers, James Potter. Another freak.

Even if he could go to the park and have a way to see Hermione, how could he? In those oversized clothes, looking like a total freak? She wouldn’t like him. She wouldn’t want to be friends with a freak like him. After all, her aunt made sure to remind him every night of this.

Hermione must’ve noticed that his mind was elsewhere and that it wasn’t a very happy place. “One pound for your thoughts.”

“You really think my thoughts worth that much? Nah!” He said, trying to break the ice and maybe put up a mask.

“I mean it, Harry. Well, I won’t give you one pound for that, but what’s going on? You got a lot quieter.”

Harry put his hands on his knees, sighing and closing his eyes. He had nothing to lose, right? At least he could pretend that everything that would happen after this was a nightmare and cherishes this evening's memories forever. His first friend. His first time being an actual child.

“I... Hermione, promise to listen to me and never say a word to anyone. Right?” He stared at her with those deep green eyes, that had a lot to say and didn’t even know where to start.

“You’re scaring me, Harry... what happened?” Hermione said with a worrying look on her face. She sat up straighter, turning her head to stare fully in his eyes.

“Will you promise?”

“Ok. Pinky promise.” She said, touching his finger with hers. He smiled a little at that.

“Umm... I’m not on holiday with my relatives. My parents died a long time ago when I was a baby. I guess my mom and my aunt didn’t get along very well and she was kinda forced to accept me in her house. Anyway... things are not that good there. I don’t have a lot of privileges and I mostly use my cousin’s old clothes, oversized ones.” He was staring down at the grass, embarrassingly. “Today was an exception, so these are clothes that really fit me. I don’t think I can’t meet you on another day, I’m sorry.”

Hermione tried with everything she had to rationalize what she just heard. She understood that his relatives were terrible people - and her protective side was already jumping. She wanted to hug him so badly. He seemed so hurt that it broke her little heart into pieces.

“I’m so sorry, Harry...” she placed her hand in his knee, squeezing it lightly. “But I didn’t get one thing: why you can’t meet me anymore? I’m staying for another week, just in time for your birthday!”

“My relatives would never let me hang out with anyone. Just the thought that I’m having fun today must be like putting a dagger in my aunt's heart. This summer, however, they’re letting me go to the park alone. But I don’t think you would like to hang out with a boy that looks like he’s homeless. Worst, what would your parents think?”

He sighed again, laying his head on the tree. Hermione had a dumbfounded look on her face for a moment, then she smiled.

“Harry, I didn’t ask you to play with me today because of your clothes. You are a really nice guy. And my parents wouldn’t think of anything bad about you. I wouldn’t let them, anyway.”

“Are you serious, Mione?”

“Of course I am. We’re friends.”

“We’re friends.” He repeated, a smile lighting up his entire face. “You have chocolate here.” He pointed with his hand on a place beside her mouth.

“Here?”

“No. Wait, can I?” He asked her permission, before leaning with his finger and cleaning up her cheek. “Alright, done!”

Hermione’s face was red as a tomato. However, she managed to mumble a thank you while looking at the grass. When she faced Harry again, he was smiling at her.

Shortly after, when they were heading to her parent's tree, Harry caught the sight of his very large cousin with three sundaes in his hands, licking every single one of them.

“Oh! Mione, I’m so sorry! My aunt is going home and if I don’t start running now I won’t be able to get home.” He looked exasperated and was turning his head at every word spoken, searching his aunt in the crowd.

“My parents can leave you-“

“I’m sorry, I really can’t! Hopefully, we see each other later this week. This was the best day of my life, Mione. Thank you!” He smiled and kissed her on the cheek, turning and running towards his aunt’s car right away, while Hermione got even redder and with a warm on her chest. She really hoped that she could see Harry another time.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the park, Harry managed to get in the car before his relatives. He was catching his breath when aunt Petunia arrived, unlocking the car doors.

“What are you doing, boy?” she asked with visible disdain in her voice.

“Nothing. Just waiting to go home.” He replied, in the most neutral tone he could.

“Did you have fun?” Dudley finally asked, with his mouth full of ice cream. In the eyes of an outsider, it might seem like an innocent question. But this was crucial for Harry. It was in moments like this that the fate of him being locked or not in the cupboard was decided.

“It was cool seeing outside. But no one played with me.” This seemed to satisfy aunt Petunia, that had a smirk in her horse-looking face.

“Who would want to play with you? Freak. Just so you know, I had lots of fun today.” His cousin replied, finishing his ice cream and cleaning his hands on the brand new shirt that his mom spent hours fluffing.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be seen talking to you, boy. Jump into the car.”

They traveled home with Dudley buzzing about his astonishing evening - not that he knew that word -, but Harry kept silent the whole way. And that night, for the first time in years, he didn’t have a nightmare. Instead, he dreamed about chocolate ice cream, brown eyes, and the feel of a tiny hand-tied with his, strolling through an empty park.

When he woke up, Harry felt the emptiness in his heart. Was everything just a dream? Or he actually made a friend for once in his life? The answer to both questions was the shirt he used yesterday, carefully folded up and laying in a tiny desk he had by his bed, just a piece of cloth, but reminded him that it was real. This brought a smile to his face, that lasted until he heard his cousin jumping in the stairs and her aunt screaming for him to get breakfast ready. He had to come up with a plan to see Hermione again, but how would he do it?

When he was in the middle of the garden chores, his cousin went to the park. Aunt Petunia always did that way, to remind him that her son was having fun while he was doing house chores. After all, he was a burden in her life and had to pay for his stay at the house in some way.

Harry finished as soon as he could and jumped right into the bathroom, preparing himself to take the first shot at meeting his friend. When he was cleaning his glasses, he started getting nervous. ‘What if her parents don’t let me play with her? What if they make fun of my clothes? She said she wouldn’t, but it’s different to say and to actually see and stay still. Right?’

He picked up one of the newest shirts Dudley dismissed to him - he was getting a lot of these old clothes lately since his cousin was getting bigger by the day - and bagged the shirt up. ‘Well, I guess that’s better.’

Aunt Petunia was by the kitchen, looking through the window with her abnormally large neck, trying to spot something weird happening. Harry stepped out of the house without her noticing and went to the street that he thought was Hermione’s grandmother's house.

He was facing the doorbell for at least five minutes, building up the courage to see if she was at home when the door suddenly opened and he was facing a tall man with sand-hair and a trash bag at one hand. He gulped visibly and the color drained from his face when the man looked down to see his face.

“Morning! You’re Harry, right?” Nothing could describe the wave of relief that slowly took over Harry’s body when he said those words. “Hermione is in the backyard. I’m glad you came, she didn’t stop talking about you since we woke up. I was about to go to your aunt’s house and ask if you could come here.”

“No! I mean... my aunt doesn’t get along with me very much. It’s better if I come here instead.” He put his hands in his pockets, to hide the tremble from her dad.

“Oh... I see.” The man had a knowing look in his face but didn’t say anything about it. “Well, nice to meet you, Harry! I’m Alex. Alexander Granger. I’m going to take the trash out, but come in! Hermione will get a lot happier when she sees you.”

“Thank you, sir. Nice to meet you too!” Alex stepped out of the front door and Harry entered the room. It was white with green undertones all over it, making it feel cozy. In one of the walls, there was a sequence of family portraits, starting from the marriage of her parents and going all the way over to Hermione’s last birthday.

He kept walking through the room and was face to face with a glass door that had a view for the large backyard. The grass was the greenest he had ever seen - one to put aunt Petunia to shame - and it had flower bushes everywhere. On the left side, a treehouse was seen, with a staircase made of pieces of wood. Beneath the house, a bushy-haired girl was laying in the grass, with a book in her hands. Harry smiled at that sight.

He opened the door just enough for him to make through and closed again, trying not to startle Hermione. However, when he turned around, she was looking at him.

“Harry! You came!” she smiled and got up, running to him. Nonetheless, when she got closer, she slowed down her pace, blushing a little. “Hi.”

“Hi!” He smiled too, hugging her awkwardly. Her hair smelled like strawberry shampoo, and he caught himself remembering the last evening again. They let go of each other and looked to the ground, blushing slightly.

Hermione looked at him again and Harry was able to see her properly. She was wearing gardener jeans with a blue blouse underneath and a matching headband. Harry thought she was beautiful.

“What you’re doing?” Harry asked.

“I spent most of my free time reading because I don’t really have anyone to play with. It’s not that I don’t like reading, but... you’re here. What you want to do?” Hermione said.

“Cool. I don’t know... I thought you maybe had an idea of what we could do.” Harry said, sheepishly.

“Ummm... do you know how to ride a bike?” Hermione said, with her hands on her hips.

“No...” Harry answered, somewhat embarrassed.

“Want to learn? I think there’s a bike from my cousin here, he doesn’t use anymore.”

“Really? Would you really t-teach me?” Harry was static. How this girl was even real? “Why of course.” When she answered this, his whole face lit up with a smile that made little twinkles appear around his green eyes.

“Let’s go.” She said and grabbed his hand, guiding him through the backyard to a room with tools, gardening clothes, and two bikes. One green and the other blue.

“You love blue, don’t you?” Harry asked, smiling at the sight of his friend dressed entirely in blue with a blue bike at her side.

“Yes. Besides that, green looks better with you. It matches your eyes.” Hermione answered with not a care in the world, not aware of how this made Harry feel something strange in his belly.

“Thanks.”

“This wasn’t a compliment, you know?” Hermione teased him, trying to put a serious face. Harry blinked twice, too shocked to understand anything. “But yes, your eyes are very pretty. I like them.”

He smiled, finally understanding the teasing tone she used.

“I like your eyes too.”

This caught Hermione off guard, but she managed to not make a fool of herself. “Thank you. Let’s go!”

Forty-seven minutes after, Harry finally managed to ride the bike without falling and was riding side-to-side with Hermione, strolling down the street.

“Where do you live, Mione?”

“I live in Hampstead, but I heard my parents talking with grandma about moving out. I don’t know where or why, but...”

“So if you go far away, would you still visit your grandma?” The little hint of fear was apparent in his voice.

“Yes.” Relief spread again through his body, bringing another smile to his face.

This relief was constantly felt by Harry during the next days. Every morning he woke up happier than the day that passed, knowing that he would be able to sneak out of his prison and spent the evening with Hermione. After learning how to ride a bike, they strolled across Little Whinging - always avoiding the park that Dudley usually played with his friends -, talking about everything and anything at all. She invited him to the treehouse and they made a picnic there, pretending later to be in one of the spy movies that Hermione’s dad liked so much. Agent Potter and Agent Granger were on a mission to free Babbit, the rabbit, from the terrible troll Dudley Dursley, a mission successfully accomplished.

On Sunday, exactly one week after they met each other, Hermione decided that it was worthy of a celebration. So here they were, in her grandmother’s living room, watching the latest VHS release: Karate Kid Part III.

“What’s bothering you?” Hermione asked, grabbing the popcorn.

“What?” Harry woke up from the daydream he was in, blinking a couple of times to adjust his vision and see Hermione.

“You’re staring the screen for at least five minutes and don’t look like you heard a word from what they said.” She after finishing the popcorn, rubbing her hands together to clean off the salt. “What’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, really. I guess I’m just a bit tired.” He said, trying to convince himself that this was a good excuse. It failed.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Harry. We’re best friends! Tell me what’s wrong.” She put her hand on his back, looking right into his eye. He smiled when she said that he was her best friend because in the previous day she said ‘If he was my boyfriend, then you can bet he is really smart because I only surround myself with very intelligent people, so my boyfriend's stake is really high. That's why I don’t hang around with people like you.’

This was right after Penelope, a girl that lived across the street - who Hermione absolutely hated - started to bothering them saying they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

“I wish I was like this kid. Being able to fight and that kind of stuff” then he muttered under his breath “so I could defend myself”.

Hermione’s heart shattered at the sight of her best friend like this and the fact that she couldn’t do anything was even worst.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I-“

“Nah, don’t mind me. I’m just being silly. Let’s keep watching the movie.” He sighed and tried to put a playful tone in his words, to end the subject. Hermione got the message and didn’t said a word, but moved her hand to the back of his head, smoothing his hair slowly.

Harry seemed to freeze for a moment and gulped audibly, looking at her from the corner of the eye. She was looking right at the television screen but didn’t stop playing with his hair. He relaxed a bit and Hermione heard a small sigh escape from his lips. She smiled inwardly. If she had to keep smoothing her best friend's hair for the rest of the movie to calm him down, she would.

On Monday, Harry woke with a different feeling. He didn’t realize what it was until it hit him: he was ten years old! And he would celebrate with Hermione! This had to be the best day of his life. Well, after finishing the house chores, it could be. Gladly he didn’t depend on aunt Petunia or Dudley to make his day better, otherwise, it would be as depressing as his other birthdays. This time it even had a bonus: uncle Vernon only arrived tomorrow, so he wouldn’t have any problems sneaking out today. Dudley was way too dumb to notice and aunt Petunia was too busy gossiping about the neighbors to pay attention to him.

So there he was, at her doorbell again. It was becoming a habit, a habit he enjoyed very much. When the door opened he was welcomed with a bone-crushing hug and a pile of bushy brown hair in his face.

“Happy birthday!” Hermione squealed and he smiled, feeling the scent of her shampoo. “May all your wishes come true, Harry. Thank you for being my best friend.”

Harry never felt so loved in his whole life. So that’s how it was, having a birthday like a normal kid? He was used to being called a freak and his uncle saying congratulations for being a burden for him another year, but he never received a hug like this before.

“Thank you, Mione. For everything.” He smiled in her hair and pressed her even more tightly against him. He didn’t want to let go of that hug.

“You two are going to run out of breath pretty soon, you know?” Catherine Granger, Hermione’s mom, said with a smile. “Happy birthday, Harry!”

They let go of each other, kinda embarrassed for being caught in the act by her mom. “Thanks, Mrs. Granger.”

“You can call me Cate, sweetie. I already told you that. So... what is the birthday boy doing today?”

“I don’t know, nothing really happens on my birthday. But just being here is already nice.”

Cate smiled, wondering inside if his boy had ever been happy in his life.

“Well, there’s a chocolate cake waiting for you there! And then maybe you two could see the lake today. But don’t swim! Just stand by under a tree and appreciate the view.”

“A chocolate cake? For me?”

“Of course! You only celebrate ten times in your life. Shall we go?”

Cate guided them to the dining room, where Alex and grandma Emma were waiting for them with a big chocolate cake.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Hermione’s grandma kissed him on the top of the head and guided him through the room. Alex was the next to congratulate him.

“Oh, the good times are coming, my boy! Brace yourself for teenage years.” He chuckled and shook Harry’s hand. “Happy birthday, Harry!”

To say that Harry was emotional would be an understatement. He was fighting against tears, but it was way too hard to keep a straight face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to muffle a sniff with his hand.

“Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You deserve even more, Harry. Come on, let’s sing happy birthday so we can eat this delicious cake that Emma did and you two can go.”

During the whole song, Harry’s face was lit up with the most beautiful smile Hermione has ever seen. His eyes were sparkling - maybe of happy tears - and she was happy too. That she was able to do this and make her friend so happy meant the world to her.

When they were strolling by the street and heading for the lake, Harry looked like he was walking on air. She never had seen him so calm, so happy. It warmed her heart on so many levels that she couldn’t even understand.

They put the bikes down by a tree and seated side to side, feeling the summer breeze and looking to the water.

“Mione, what you want to do when you grow up?” Harry asked her, with his eyes closed while seated with his elbows in the green grass.

“Ummm... though question. I keep changing my mind a lot, but I don’t think I want to be a dentist like my parents. I don’t have the courage to pull someone else’s teeth out. Ew.” She pinched her nose when she said that, making Harry chuckle.

“Me neither. Imagine the blood spilling! Ew!” They laughed together and she changed the weight in her legs, getting face to face with him when he also turned around. “And you? What you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I think I would like to be a teacher or something like that.”

“Really? Why?” Hermione said, surprised.

“I think it has to do with the fact that my teachers never gave me the help that I wanted or needed, and I know that there are a lot of kids out there needing that help. I would like to be that person.”

She was completely dumbfounded by his answer and her mouth was slightly open in admiration.

“That’s beautiful, Harry. I think you would be a great teacher.”

“Thanks.” He replied, blushing a little.

A few moments after that, a couple of elders passed through them, kissing and laughing at something they didn’t hear about.

“Harry..”

“Hi.”

“Do you ever kissed anyone?” There was a note of apprehension mixed with curiosity in her voice, and Harry was completely startled.

“I... I no. And you?”

  
“Me neither.” She replied, sighing. “How do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. It must be pretty good since older people do so much.” He said a chuckle lost on his throat.

“Yes, I guess so.” Hermione bites her lip and her hands were trembling a bit. “Harry?”

“What?”

“Do you want to know what it’s like? To kiss someone? To end the curiosity, you know.” She said and Harry thought he had never seen her blushing so much in his life.

“I... I think so.”

“Close your eyes.” She said, activating the bossy mode.

“But then I won’t be able to see anything!” He started.

“Do you ever seen someone kiss another with their eyes open? That’s the whole point of the thing, I guess. Something like focus on the feeling.”

“Fine. But do you know how to do it?” He asked and he started to sweat a little.

“No. Let’s practice! Kiss your arm like this.” Hermione started to kiss multiple times her forearm and Harry did the same. “Ok, enough practice.”

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, looking at her with his deep green eyes.

“Yes. Let’s do it.” She sighed and he closed his eyes. “One, two, two and a half... three.”

They both inclined on each other, touching lips for only about two seconds.

Harry smiled awkwardly at Hermione, that had a small smile on her face.

“Never tell-“

“Don’t tell-“

They started talking at the same time and stopped, laughing out loud.

“Okay. It’s a secret.”

After nearly three hours, with the sun setting down on the sky, they were making their way back to her grandmother’s house. When they stopped in the front door, after storing the bikes on the garage, she turned to face him.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I have a gift for you. Here, let me check the casket on the bike.” She stood up and came back with a package Harry failed to notice before, too caught up in his own happiness at the moment.

“What is this? There’s no need, Mione, you already made my day.” He said and stood up while she shook her head.

“I’m not having any of this. It’s my first present from my first friend. My best friend. Here, open it!”

Inside the package was a special edition of ‘Narnia’, by C.S. Lewis.

“Mione..” He couldn’t believe it.

“I told you I was going to make you read. Now you don’t have any excuses! You can hide under your bed so your aunt won’t be able to see it and take it from you.”

She received a bone-crushing hug in response and started soothing her hands on his jet-black hair.

“Did you like it?”

“Like it? I loved it! Thank you so much, Mione.”

They let go of each other and smiled. With a twinkle of tears in Hermione’s eyes.

“I think I’m going home tomorrow. We will have to move out before the summer ends and I didn’t want to spoil your birthday with bad news.”

Harry felt like he had a slap on the face.

“Okay. Thank you, Mione. I hope you have lots of friends in your new home.” He pulled her to another hug and soothed her curly hair for the first time and kissed her cheek.

“Bye.” She said with a crack on her voice.

“Bye.” When she turned around and started walking, Harry had a question on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t hold it.

“Mione?”

“Hi.” She turned her head around to see him.

“Will... Will you miss me?” He asked, with a clench in his chest.

“Of course I will. Will you?”

“A lot.” He said with the beginning of a smile popping his lips. She smiled broadly.

“Bye, Harry. See you next summer!”

“Bye, Mione. See you!” Harry turned around to hold back the tears, with a mixed feeling inside of him. And as the darkness started to take over the sky, he could only hope to see this girl again in the next summer, and in the next, and the other after... he heard once that childhood friends never lasted forever, and he never had the experience to worry about. But now that he had a friend, he didn’t worry because after all, she would always be his girl.


	2. "...baby come and take me away."

_October 31st, 1991_

When Harry Potter was told that he was a wizard, he never expected to receive the full childhood he should’ve had along with the news. 

Now, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t celebrating Halloween locked in a cupboard under the stairs while Aunt Petunia handed out the worst sweets in the world to the children of the neighborhood - only her Dudley deserved the best sweets. 

For the first time, he didn’t have to watch his stupid cousin babbling on about how he beat every other kid in the street, or how he was the one with the biggest amount of sweets at the end of the night while poor Harry didn’t have even a lollipop to call his own. Even if this meant that the large boy would end up spending the entire next day in the bathroom with stomach pain. 

Now, as he was heading for the great hall, Harry was sure that Lady Magic had presented him with a gift. It wasn’t just the fact that he finally had a proper bedroom, proper meals, education, or anything else. It was the fact that now, for the first time, he felt like he was part of something. That he was worthy. 

And he had a friend. Ron Weasley was a red-haired boy who talked a lot and ate just as much.

“I’m a growing boy!” he insisted. 

Ron acted as both his encyclopedia of the magical world and his first friend. Well, the first since _she_ had gone. 

Once in a while he still dreamt of her. Of riding bikes with her, climbing her treehouse, or even eating ice cream with her - chocolate with strawberries, thank you very much. Even that kiss, that millisecond kiss, took place in his dreams. He wondered how she was and why she had never come back. His first summer without her was truly miserable. It was so difficult to walk down the street every evening to wait for his girl , only to make his way home without seeing her. 

After that summer, Harry had made a habit of visiting her grandmother’s house, offering to help with the garden. It wasn’t like the Dursley’s, where he had to stay under the sun doing everything on his own. Hermione’s grandmother talked with him, telling stories of when she was young – like the one time she had pretended to be a duchess and crashed a boat party with her boyfriend. She did the garden along with him and shared a lot of arrangement techniques she’d learned with her aunts a long time ago. After that, she always made him eat something and then gave him 2 pounds for his help. He refused profusely at first and only accepted after she sat down with him and had a conversation. She explained that he shouldn’t have to do the chores he did, and how she wished she could do more to help. In the end, Harry was awkwardly hugged by his best friend's grandmother in the middle of her kitchen, tears spilling from his eyes. 

But just as with every good thing that came into his life, Granny Elizabeth had to leave. She had told him one day before her rushed departure that she had to go to France for a couple of weeks, to resolve some family matters. She didn’t elaborate but left enough money to last Harry for the next three months in consideration of the work he’d done in her garden. He promised to keep up with the work, receiving a grandmotherly smile and a tight hug in response. 

“ _You are a very special boy, Harry. Never let anyone make you forget that.”_

When she didn’t come back for the next five months, his heart shattered along with his hopes of seeing her again. After almost seven exhaustive months, Granny Elizabeth came back. He kept his promise and she appreciated it very much. They sat down for an entire evening and she told him about Paris and how she’d missed her little garden - and how she’d missed him. Harry smiled, his cheeks flushed red with the recognition. 

_“Is Hermione okay?”_

_Granny Elizabeth suddenly shifted position in her seat, stiffening slightly despite the smile on her face._

_“She is… alright. Still getting used to the Paris lights. She asked me to tell you that she misses you terribly and that, unfortunately, she won’t be able to come here this summer. She hopes you understand.”_

_Harry felt the blood drain from his face._

_“W-Why can’t she come this summer?”_

_Granny had a sad look on her face._

_“She has to prepare for this new school she’ll be starting soon, and unfortunately she won’t be able to come. I’m sorry, Harry.”_

His train of thought was interrupted by his red-haired friend as they sat down at the table in the great hall. 

“Longbottom has been in the bathroom since earlier today. Can you believe it?” 

“What?” Harry replied, slow in processing what was being said around him because of all that was happening around the hall during the Halloween feast. 

“Neville. He’s still in the bathroom and won’t let anyone get near him. And to put a cherry on top of everything else, Malfoy went in there and asked what kind of so-called brave Gryffindor locks himself in the bathroom.” Ron sighed. “As if he needed any more motivation to quit school.” 

“Well, we both know that-“ Harry started but was interrupted by a very pleased Ron, feeling like he was heaven with a gigantic piece of pudding on his plate. 

“Come on, Harry! I already said that I never meant to do it. It’s Fred and George’s fault anyway.” 

Right after Charms class, Neville had been completely desperate after losing his remembrall - a magical object designed to help him remember when he’d lost something. He’d been convinced that his gran would kill him if she found out he’d lost it. 

Neville didn’t have a stupendous relationship with his family. Both of his parents had been in Saint Mungo's, the wizarding hospital based in London since he was a baby. They’d ended up there after being attacked by a group of death eaters. He lived now with his grandmother, Lady Augusta Longbottom, a woman known to have an iron fist and to accomplish anything she set her mind to. Anything. Then there was uncle Algie, who had nearly assassinated Neville by dropping him out of a window to prove he wasn’t a squib.

So when Ron offered to help with a summoning spell that Fred and George had just taught him, Neville had gladly accepted, despite some of his classmates saying it wasn’t a very good idea. 

The minute Ron finished saying the incantation, Neville had gone completely bald in the middle of the Hogwarts corridor. To say the event was traumatic for him would be an understatement. It looked like the whole school had stood there, pointing at him and laughing. He ran to the bathroom crying and locked himself in one of the cubicles, not coming out even for dinner. 

It had been almost three hours since the incident and Harry wasn’t feeling comfortable at all with the situation. It reminded him far too much of the way Dudley treated everyone, especially Harry. The raven-haired wizard had just decided that he was going to convince Neville to head back to the dorms when Professor Quirrell crashed into the great hall, screaming. 

“Troll! In the dungeons! Thought you ought to know.” As he collapsed in the middle of the floor, chaos erupted everywhere around him. If even the DADA teacher was fainting at the sight of this troll, how could anyone else expect to handle the situation? Not that Quirrell was a superb professor, by the way. But if Dumbledore trusted him with the job, he must’ve had some talent at some point of his life.

With Dumbledore’s statement still ringing in his ears, Harry turned to Ron, grabbing him by the elbows. 

“Neville! He doesn’t know about the troll. We have to get him out of there now!” 

The duo arrived at the boy's bathroom on the first floor, Ron managing to look sheepish as he stayed behind while Harry took a few steps in Neville’s direction. 

“Neville, mate, it’s me! Look, we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll fix this in a minute and I promise it won’t happen again. Ron is sorry, he didn’t intend for any of this to happen.” Harry said and stopped, gesturing for Ron to continue. When he didn’t, Harry gave him a hard stare, nodding his head in the direction of the stall. 

“Yeah, Harry’s right, Neville. I didn’t mean to do it. It was a prank from Fred and George and you happened to be the first victim. I only found out after it was already done. I’m sorry.” Ron said while looking at his feet, embarrassed. 

The door opened and Neville got out, his face swollen and red, but finally without tears running down his cheeks.

“I-it’s ok, Ron. I believe you and I believe in you too, Harry. I was-“ he stopped mid-sentence not from shame, but for fear for his life. Just at the doorstep, a tall mountain troll stood, grumbling and breaking everything he saw in his way.

“Oh, by the way, there’s a troll in the school!” Harry screamed, pulling Neville and Ron aside while the creature destroyed the whole bathroom. 

“Merlin, please forgive me for anything I ever did to upset you! If I die my gran is going to kill me. Oh, Lord!” Neville cried, closing his eyes and shaking against the bathroom wall. 

“To the floor!” Harry said, ducking as the troll swung his club at the place their heads had been only seconds before. Ron had joined Neville now, shaking violently on the floor. “Calm down, you two! We need a plan.”

“We’re going to die!” Ron wailed with his hands covering his head. “I didn’t even get the chance to make it to the Quidditch team! Or become a prefect! Or… or… oh, bloody hell!” 

“Shut up! Are you a wizard or not? Help me think of something!” Harry cried, pulling them both by the elbows and sliding through the troll legs. 

“W-what if we made him sleep for a while?” Neville stuttered, trying to gain control of his voice. “We could escape and call professor McGonagall after that.”

“We don’t know the wand movements for a stunner yet! They don’t teach that until the third year!” Ron said, exasperated. 

“We could… hold on!” Harry looked at the hands of the troll and something clicked in his head. “I hope this works… Wingardium Leviosa!” 

The wooden club levitated from the troll hands and levitated above his head, where Harry canceled the spell, letting it drop right onto the creature’s head. 

_CRASH._

“Blimey Harry!” the red-haired boy said in awe as the mountain troll dropped to the ground. 

“Is he dead?” Neville asked, finally opening his eyes to peer between the fingers pressed against his face. 

“I don’t believe so, Mr. Longbottom. But I think for everyone’s safety, some questions need to be asked.” 

“Oh boy, we’re so screwed,” Ron mumbled under his breath as Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and a very angry Minerva McGonagall entered the bathroom. 

“It was my fault, headmaster, I-“ Neville started, sweating and growing even paler than before. The thought of his gran getting a letter saying that he was expelled was somehow even more terrifying than being attacked by a troll in the school bathroom. 

“Mr. Longbottom, I highly doubt that a first-year student who only started classes barely a month ago has anything to do with how a mountain troll entered the school. My concerns are _how_ and _why_ the three of you were in this bathroom when I clearly instructed you to go to your common room.” Minerva interrupted him, her lips pressed into a thin line and then sighed, barely holding the desire to roll her eyes. “You’re not going to get expelled.” 

“At least not today.” Snape sneered with an angry look on his face. 

“These answers would be best if provided at my office. Minerva, if we may...” Dumbledore stated, pointing to the Gryffindor trio. 

An hour later, Minerva was guiding them through the corridors, fighting the urge to crack a smile at the show of courage from her cubs today.

After that day, something changed between the three Gryffindors. After all, some things just can’t stay the same after you defeat a mountain troll together. 

— • —

_May 31th of 1992_

Six months after the troll incident, Neville had never been so happy. Maybe it was true, sometimes bad things happened for a reason. 

But now? He didn’t think that the bad thing they were after was going to take a good turn in any way. At all. 

It had all started with Harry’s suspicions about professor Snape, intensified after the quidditch game that ended with Seamus blowing the professors stand up. At least Harry had gotten out of the game alive. 

There was something fishy about professor Snape and professor Quirrell, and they had more than one reason to link them to the Philosopher’s Stone, which was hidden in the school. _Under a three-headed dog._

Just another normal day at Hogwarts. 

Except now he, Harry, and Ron were about to enter the Fluffy room - the name they’d given it after the unfortunate night they’d faced Hagrid’s three-headed dog. 

Luckily this time the dog was asleep, a harp laid down in an empty corner of the room while the trap door lay open. 

“Bloody hell.” 

“Ron, can you please shut up? Or else try to formulate a sentence with other words! It’s getting on my nerves.” Harry whispered and walked in the direction of the passage, gesturing with his hands for them to follow him. Seconds later, they were jumping through the hole in the ground. 

“What the hell is this?” Harry asked, just as Neville felt the air being pulled from his lungs. Everything was tightening up around him, like…

“Devil’s Snare! Of course!” He pulled his wand and tried his hardest to make it light. “Lumos Maxima!” 

Suddenly the plants loosened their grip upon his arms and the air came rushing back to his lungs. The trio dropped right to the ground and found themselves faced with a room full of birds, with a broom next to the door. 

“What is this even supposed to mean? Do you think we have to catch all the birds to make the door open? Come on!” Harry cried out and took a deep breath. 

“Mate, I don’t think you’re far off. Except they’re not birds, these are…” Ron pinched the tip of his nose and then said in awe. “Flying keys! This is so cool! I think we’re supposed to find the right key to open the door. But we have to be quick!” 

“Ok, which one of us goes?” Harry asked with a determined look on his face. 

“Of course it’s you, Mr. _‘youngest seeker in a century,_ ’” Ron replied mockingly, a grin splashed across his features. 

“Shut up, prat. I was being polite.” Harry answered, making his way towards the broom on the other side of the room. 

“Now is not time to be polite, you two. Go!” Neville huffed and Harry shot up almost touching the ceiling as he started analyzing all of the flying keys with a seeker’s precision. 

“There you go!” He rushed forward, catching a key with only one wing. Harry descended from the air and the three of them rushed to the door, opening it to reveal another room with a giant chess set. 

“Bloody hell,” Neville said, gasping. 

“Indeed,” Harry replied, paling a little. “I think it’s your turn, mate.” 

Ron nodded, an expression of concentration taking over his face.

“I’ll go to Knight. Harry, go to the Bishop. Neville, take the Rook.*” 

Paler than ever before, sweat pouring from his forehead, Ron played the deadliest chess game of his life. 

“Harry, as soon as I finish here you’re going to run through that door and get the stone because I won’t be able to go forward. I’m going to sacrifice myself in the game so you both can go.” 

“No! You can’t do that, Ron. There must be another way.” Harry protested, his knuckles going white with the strength he was using to hold onto the chess piece. 

“I can and I will. You have to stop Snape from resurrecting Voldemort. You already defeated him once, you can do it again. Go!” 

_Checkmate._

Everything that came after was a blur in Harry’s mind. With Ron’'s words ringing in his ears, he jumped from the giant chessboard and ran right through the door, screaming for Neville to get some help from Professor McGonagall. 

_In case I die._ He thought to himself. 

With eyes closed and hands trembling, he made it through to the fifth room, opening to see a small wooden table with seven bottles of various sizes and colors displayed on it. 

Just as he made to take a step in the direction of the table, purple flames sprang up from both doorways - in and out of the room. He was trapped. Gulping nervously and forcing his legs to walk right up to the table, he tried to figure out what he should do. As his eyes scanned the table, he came across a piece of parchment that levitated when his hands touched the wood. 

With the words floating right in front of his face, he read what looked like a riddle. 

_“Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you with your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.”_

Great. After avoiding death more than once already that night, he was stepping right back into the fray, potentially drinking a poison all by himself. 

He read it again. And again. And just another time to be sure. No matter how many times he read it, he grew no closer to understanding what it meant. Harry knew that three of them might kill him, two of them were wine and one would allow him to go back, the other would let him pass forward. He wasn’t very good at math, but he thought that there was a very high chance of him choosing one of the death bottles on his first try. 

“Think, Harry. Think!” He mumbled to himself. Harry took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. The future of the wizarding world was resting in his hands, he couldn’t mess up. “Right. Umm… if the giant bottle isn’t poisonous and it was identical to the second from the left, it could be the wine. No, wait! But.. what if- oh Merlin! Calm down, Harry. So this could mean that…” 

Just when he was about to touch another bottle, there was a bang behind him. When he turned around, Albus Dumbledore was rushing towards the young wizard with a pained look on his face. 

“Harry! My boy, are you alright?” The old man said with no sign of the classical twinkle in his eyes. They looked deep. Old. 

“I-I’m alright, professor. But we have to hurry up, Snape is going to get the stone and resurrect Voldemort!” Harry squeaked.

“I’m afraid you are right, Harry. But it’s not professor Snape. I must go and put an end to this, hurry up through that door, and don’t look back!” Dumbledore said and handed him a vial with a fierce expression. Harry didn’t dare to refuse, quickly taking a sip from the bottle at the same time Dumbledore did with another vial. He sorely hoped it wouldn’t end up like that book Hermione had once mentioned to him, Romeo & Juliet. 

Dumbledore wasn’t really what he had in mind for his Juliet and he didn’t drop dead on the ground, so Harry took it as a good sign and ran back through the flames as soon as he had regained his senses.

He didn’t dare to look back. 

– • –

_May 30th, 1993_

“Mr. Potter, I cannot express to you how I am feeling at this moment in light of what I’ve seen, so I need to understand what happened. And I need you to tell me everything. From the beginning.” 

If they ever held a staring contest in Hogwarts, Harry was pretty sure that Minerva McGonagall could win with ease, obliterating her adversaries to ashes within the first five seconds of competition. However, as the first ray of morning sun lit the headmaster’s office, he could swear he saw a twinkle of pride behind her stiff expression. 

“There’s no need to worry, Mr. Potter, you aren’t in trouble. Very much the opposite, if I might add. Please take a seat,” Albus Dumbledore said, touching what he thought was Fawkes, fully reborn in a pile of ashes. “But please be aware that we have to take everything into account to fully understand what happened right under our noses, Mr. Potter. Especially me, having such a large one.” 

Harry grinned and ruffled his hair with one hand. 

“Well… I suppose everything started on my birthday.” He took a deep breath and it hit him just how badly he smelled. Basilisk blood wasn’t a very effective moisturizer for a young wizard. Ugh. 

“I was in my room, pretending that I didn’t exist so my uncle could secure a contract. They don’t want anyone knowing that I live with them, so I just locked myself in the room while he set up the dinner for the man from the company and his wife.” Harry missed the pained look on Minerva’s face and the thoughtful look in the headmaster's eyes. “So out of nowhere this house-elf appears and starts saying that I shouldn’t come to Hogwarts this year, that it was dangerous and that I had to stay at home.

I tried to reason with him. I told him that I was only happy when I was in school, but nothing seemed to work with him. He wouldn’t tell me what the threat was and started to punish himself for spilling his master’s secrets. My uncle came rushing upstairs and I had to hide him in my closet because Uncle Vernon hates anything related to magic. When he got downstairs, Dobby - that was the elf’s name, by the way - rushed after him and I had to follow to avoid disaster. Turns out that I wasn’t so successful since Dobby levitated a cake and dropped it right onto the investor’s wife's head.”

Harry cracked a smile and sighed. 

“This was enough to infuriate Uncle Vernon, so he put bars on my windows and locked me in my room for days. I was rescued by the Weasleys, but I think you already know that bit since my letter was sent to their house. Anyway, moving towards the Chamber drama.” 

Dumbledore put his hands on the table, eying Harry cautiously. 

“I assume I’ll have to send some letters to Petunia. But keep going, Harry. Minerva is almost passing out from excitement, I’m afraid.” 

McGonagall huffed and glared at Dumbledore. Harry hid his smile with a cough and he could’ve sworn he saw McGonagall's lips lift a little. 

“So, I started hearing this voice inside my head saying strange things. It talked about killing, tearing something apart. It said it wanted...blood. I didn’t say anything because Ron told me that even in the wizarding world hearing voices wasn’t a good sign. Right after that, the whole Heir of Slytherin mess blew up in my face, and I had to keep quiet. But the voice didn’t stop, you see? And the attacks kept going on full force.” 

Harry shifted his position on the chair, suddenly becoming uncomfortable. He decided not to mention how he and Neville stole the polyjuice potion from a sixth-year class demonstration under his dad’s cloak and went to spy on Malfoy in the dungeons. He had enough problems to deal with. 

“Ron and I overheard the professors talking about Ginny being taken to the Chamber of Secrets, and we had to do something. Moaning-Myrtle, the ghost of the girl's bathroom, is very friendly with us. Um, at least with me and Neville. She dislikes Ron. Anyway, she told us a couple of weeks before how she died and how someone threw a diary at her head earlier that day. I took the diary and... it was strange. It felt like it was ‘eating’ the ink somehow, using it to write me back. I started asking questions and it showed me a memory of Hagrid being expelled after the Chamber was opened. The next day, the diary was stolen from my trunk and my bedroom had been ransacked. I let it go, but it was really strange..”

“Harry, my boy, do you know the name of the… the thing that was talking back to you from the diary?” Dumbledore asked with a frown on his face. 

“Tom Riddle,” He answered, watching as Dumbledore closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “But bear with me sir, I’ll get there.

We – Ron, and Neville, and I – were trying to figure out who was leading the attacks and how it was being done so that we could find a way to protect ourselves and our friends. Neville started getting suspicious about the blood on the wall. Since none of the victims had any injuries, the blood had to have come from somewhere else. We figured it must have been from some kind of animal. But why kill an animal just to write these messages on the wall? Seemed like a lot of trouble for something that could be done with magic or even muggle paint.”

I remembered Hagrid saying something about the school roosters being killed, so I connected the dots from there. We started going to the library and researching magical creatures. Ron found something about a very large snake that could be destroyed by the call of a rooster. The book didn’t have any further information aside from the creature’s name, size, eye color, and how it could be destroyed. After that, we went looking specifically for other books, and that’s how we found out that the basilisk's stare could kill a person. There was far too much evidence for it to be a coincidence, but something didn’t add up; no one had died. Not to mention the mystery of how a creature that size could move around the castle without anyone noticing.

Neville suggested that maybe it could be invisible, but none of the books said that. Then I realized something about the petrified people: none of them had looked at the basilisk directly. Filch’s cat had the water, Collin had his camera, Hannah Abbott had a mirror and Katie Bell had Sir Nicholas. No one looked right into the snake’s eyes, so they were petrified instead of dying. I had heard the voice while I was walking through the hallways like it was inside the walls. It was Neville who suggested that it could move through the school pipes, so no one would see it.” 

Minerva’s jaw dropped to the floor and she began stuttering. 

“H-how on earth? This was an impressive use of logic, Mr. Potter.” She pulled herself together and let out a smile. “70 points to Gryffindor for this magnificent piece of investigation. To you and each one of your friends involved.” 

“Really? Bloody hell, no one will understand anything when they see the counter.” Harry smirked and received a severe look from McGonagall. 

“Language, Mr. Potter.” 

“Sorry professor.” Harry smiled as he proceeded. “So, once we had our theory we went rushing to find you, Professor McGonagall. That was when we overheard you talking about Ginny. We ran into Lockhart’s office and saw him packing, ready to leave. We had to threaten him to get him to go to the Chamber with us. We spoke with Moaning Myrtle, who said the last thing she saw before she died was a pair of yellow eyes in the bathroom, so we tried to have a look around. Ron pointed out that I could only hear the creature because it was a snake and I am a parselmouth.”

“So the chamber only opens when someone is speaking parseltongue at its entrance?” McGonagall interrupted. 

“Exactly,” Harry answered. “We went down there and Lockhart took Ron’s wand away, threatening to obliviate us and leave the chamber without rescuing Ginny. He used this method with all of his ‘adventures’, you know?” 

He punctuated the word adventures with air quotes as he rolled his eyes in disdain.

“He listened to other people’s stories and obliviated them so that he could take credit for them. He’s a fraud. Anyway, he tried but Ron’s wand was broken, it broke when we hit the Whomping Willing - which was Dobby’s fault too, by the way. He closed the portal on the train station to prevent me from taking the train and coming to Hogwarts, you see? 

So anyway, when he tried to obliviate us, it went right back into him. That’s the reason why he doesn’t even remember his name - I think that spell might be the only one he can cast successfully.”

“Albus! What are we going to do? First, we have a professor possessed by Voldemort teaching students then the very next year we have a fraud threatening to obliviate them. If it keeps going like this we won’t have any students left, not with that kind of reputation. Morgana helps me.” 

McGonagall huffed and Dumbledore sighed, putting one hand to his temple, massaging a line right above his white eyebrows. 

“Later, Minerva, later. You may proceed, Harry.” 

“Umm... right, the chamber. We went down there and I had to speak parseltongue again to open the actual chamber. At the end of the corridor, I saw Ginny’s body laid down on the floor, asleep. Or it looked like she was sleeping, anyway. She was very pale and cold, and we couldn’t wake her up. 

Then Tom Riddle appeared and things escalated very quickly from there. He revealed himself as Lord Voldemort and told us how he’d possessed Ginny through the diary and how she would bring him back to life by giving her soul to him. Then he called out the basilisk and Neville and Ron moved Ginny’s body to the side of the chamber, trying to protect her. Voldemort was controlling the snake using parseltongue magic and I couldn’t do anything other than run and try not to look the creature in the eyes. Then Fawkes - God bless her - attacked his eyes, and I was finally able to look at what I was fighting. She dropped the Sorting Hat in my lap when I slipped in the water and the sword on Gryffindor was inside of it. To cut a long story short, we fought and I was able to kill the beast with the sword, but one of the fangs pierced my arm and the venom almost killed me. Fawkes came to my rescue again there, and as she cried on my wounded arm-“

“Healing properties. Fantastic.” McGonagall whispered. Dumbledore looked amused. “Fawkes is a very special Phoenix, indeed.”

“Yes. But Tom Riddle was getting more solid by the second and Nev noticed that the diary was the actual tether linking Ginny’s vital force to Voldemort, so we had to destroy it. I threw one of the basilisk fangs and Ron caught it, jumping on the diary to stab it with the fang, destroying it. It started to regurgitate black ink and the solid version of Voldemort started screaming like he was in a very large amount of pain. It faded away and all I remember is Neville and Ron hugging me. After Ginny woke up, I asked Fawkes if she could help us get out of there, so we held on to each other and she grabbed my arm, lifting us out of there. Then you appeared in the bathroom. That was it.”

Minerva had her lips pressed in a thin line with a concerned expression. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed calm as usual, never allowing the grandfather mask slip, lest he reveals the machinations going on inside his head. 

“Very well, Mr. Potter. You may go to your common room. But I would advise you to take a shower before heading to bed. I’d imagine you’re eager to rinse this basilisk perfume off of you.” 

Harry felt his face grow hot at the headmaster's words, spotting a mischievous glint in the old man's blue eyes. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Let’s go, Mr. Potter. I’ll escort you.” Minerva said, rushing him out of the office, but stopping in her tracks in the middle of the stairs. 

“You could use a little privacy in my opinion. What do you think?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and the ghost of a smile on her face. 

“Yes, I think so.” 

Suddenly Minerva pointed her wand at the top of his head and he felt like an egg had been cracked on his skull. 

“Better?”

“Better.” said an invisible Harry as they strolled through the corridors of the castle. 

— • —

 _Paris, 1993_

“I’m truly sorry, Madam Maxime, but I can’t stand this anymore. I thought that it would fade with time but it’s been three years. Three years. I-I fear that I’ll have to quit.” 

“Oh, _món-cherrie!_ Do you think this is the most reasonable course of action? I swear that we will launch an investigation to find out who did this to you and there will be consequences” the woman wore a concerned look on her face, pitying her for all the sleepless nights and terrible days that she had been forced to endure since her first time inside the walls of the Beauxbatons Academy. 

The girl gulped nervously, trying to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. 

“Pardon, madam. I don’t think it will make that much difference. Unfortunately, I don’t feel safe here anymore. When I discovered that I was a witch, it was like a veil had been taken away from my eyes. I could finally understand everything that had been happening to me my entire life. I knew why I felt so much like an outsider, not quite sure that I belonged anywhere.” She sighed and took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. “I never told anyone. Not even my parents. So when I received that letter, it was like I finally had a chance to fit in. To have friends and to learn things that I always thought were mere fairytales. I had this picture in my head of what a witch was. All I’d known of witches until that moment were these cartoonish stereotypes of evil, so imagine my surprise when I wake up one morning to find out that I am one? I was in crisis, constantly questioning myself: I knew I wasn’t a bad person, so how could I possibly be a witch? Eventually, I managed to reconcile with the fact that not everything in life is black and white, convincing myself that this could turn out to be a good thing. I was wrong.” 

The headmistress flinched with every word, knowing that this girl no longer trusted her. How could she have disappointed one of her students in such a way? Through the years Madame Maxime had grown very fond of the girl, so much so that she had seriously considered offering her a place at her coven, giving the bushy-haired girl a real anchor to rely on in the magical world. But she had failed. 

Hermione Granger was one of the brightest students of the Academy, if not _the_ brightest student. Her love of books and her cleverness was both her strength and her weakness, at least in her current environment. 

The girl didn’t have any friends. The only ones who came close were the ones who wanted to use the poor girl to complete their assignments or to ask for help with their studies – tasks she carried out with enormous pleasure. She simply loved being able to help other students, even if this meant that 99.9% of her free time was spent at the library.

This was why, when the bullying had started, she had thought that it was only a byproduct of immature teenage jealousy. Countless times she had spotted the girl alone and asked her to have tea and talk a little in the private garden outside her office. Never once in all of that time had she mentioned the attacks she’d suffered at the hands of her fellow students. When the headmistress had asked, she’d been quickly dismissed. Hermione had always assured her that everything was alright and that nothing untoward had happened. 

The girl had very thick skin, but even strong girls like her had a breaking point. Hermione had hit hers thirty minutes ago, arriving directly at the headmistress’ office instead of the infirmary, taking her blue slippers off inside. 

_“I beg your pardon, Miss Granger? What are you doing?” Madam Maxime asked, confused. Her answer was clear as she caught sight of the girl's feet._

_“Oh, my-“ Maxime gasped, suddenly feeling her eyes grow hot. She barely managed to keep the tears from streaming down her face when she saw the wounds and the blood soaking the slippers. “What happened, my dear?”_

_“Someone put a broken glass inside my slippers with a combined disillusionment and cushioning charm. I thought it was an ant or something but wasn’t able to take it off during classes to check. When I went to the bathroom to look, my feet were completely red. That’s when I realized what it was - blood. My blood. I could have been seriously injured before I'd even realized that anything was wrong.”_

_“Morgana help us… Charlie!” The headmistress summoned her house-elf and ordered him to fetch the school's healer as soon as possible. After she’d received the proper medical attention, Miss Granger announced her intention to leave the academy._

“What are you planning to do instead, mon Cherie? You cannot simply abandon your studies like this. You are far too talented to do such a thing!” 

“Thank you, headmistress. I… I know it’s rare but I do remember reading something in my second year about transfer programs between magical schools. Couldn’t I get transferred to another school? It’s... it’s my last shot. I have to give my magic another chance.” 

A silence hung over the room, the large woman looking through the window thoughtfully. After what it felt like hours, she spoke. 

“Very well then. What do you know about Hogwarts?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi! This story was conceived as one-shot, then a short-fic, then a one-shot again. Now I finally build up the courage to write another chapter. I have some plans and as of now, this should probably have around ten-chapters. This chapter was a transition and I thank you for all the support in the previous chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one and that you are looking forward to see what is coming next. Thank you to Samantha for helping me in the early stages of this one. Cat is out of the bag! What you think?


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